Pushover
by garfunkel and oates
Summary: Pepper was a washed up wanderer with no more wandering to do, and Butch was a gang enthusiast with all the wrong intentions. A series of vignettes reflecting the relationship of FLW and Butch DeLoria. Will focus more on post-game things and DLC content. Rated M for language and sexual situations.
1. Rivet City

**This is another one of my side projects that will be updated when I'm feeling frisky. I just finished playing Fallout 3 (which is great because I'm like 1billion years behind with this whole video game thing) and yeah, sizzle sizzle. **

**Now I know that Pepper Gomez was Freddie's mom but I actually killed her soo... I like the name Pepper, it's really sweet. **

**This will just be a one shot sort of story that skips around a lot. I'm not here for commitment, folks! And same goes with the other new story I posted - the more comments it gets the more it gets updated. I want to focus on 'A Friend in Need' but I couldn't with all these potential storylines rolling around in my head. **

**EDIT: 23/02/13 - changed the title to 'Pushover', an Etta James song.**

**Read on, beautiful ladies. **

* * *

There was not much left to do for the wasteland - it was a dry place. Other than the odd jobs here and there, Pepper was a washed up wanderer. The girl who risked her life to save America was just another face, a part of the forgotten time capsule that was buried far too deep to be found.

The Muddy Rudder was the worst place in the world to get your alcohol. The old wench behind the bar watered down her gin and juice on the ratio of 3:1, and not to mention she had the attitude of a misplaced ghoul. The bar smelt like soggy traveller and cigarettes, filled with the burnt out settlers that couldn't afford Grade-A Hooch. But that's where Pepper found herself after a long walk back from Megaton.

Originally planning on visiting little Bryan, she docked at the ship to find he was already in bed for the night. It was only nine o'clock, technically the best time to take advantage of the day. The night air was cool and the ship creaked with old age, opting to buy a room with Vera for only the night. She would talk to Brian in the morning and then head to see ThreeDog later that day.

"Vodka." She hit the bar with her palm, leaning back so she could rest on her elbows. Her eyes were rimmed with dark circles, the sleepless nights causing mild mental stress. They felt like they were going to fall out of her head, lids swollen and sticky. It had been a long time since Pepper had felt alive.

A small handful of caps were pushed in front of her hands.

"Well if it isn't my best gal, the one who sprung me from the Vault! I think I owe this lovely lady a drink."

Pepper perked up, turning to see the face of the boy who basically ran her life back in the Vault. She grimaced, shrugging before snatching the bottle off of Belle.

"Butch DeLoria, I forgot you existed." She patted him on the knee in greeting. A familiar face was always welcome in her eyes, and just because it was some asshole didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the conversation. He looked weathered, a little older (not as weathered and old as her but still stiff competition) and that made her feel safe.

"My feelings." He mocked, pulling up a stool beside her.

"_My_ feelings for _19 years_..."

"Don't dwell on the past, nosebleed." He took the bottle out of her hands and took a long chug. She gave him a sour look before letting out a grin, taking it back. "As I said, I owe you big for getting me out of that shit house."

"You liking the wastes?" She asked, sipping the ugly tasting vodka. It was refreshing to have someone with something in common. This way they could keep a flowing conversation without the staples of 'what's your name' and 'are you possibly STD free for the night?'.

"Uh..."

"I'm surprised you made it to the Rudder without getting ass-raped by a radroach."

"What are you talking about? I'm tough as shit!" His voice pitched in offence. She poked her tongue out to smack him on the knee again. It was good to see a touch of home, albeit a burning sphincter-like face that once ran his trike over her foot for the fun of it.

"Hey, I believe you." She held up her hands as he relaxed, grinning at her while rolling the toothpick between his teeth. "You once punched me for a sweetroll. It literally does not get more bad ass than that."

"If you can't handle me at my worst, nosebleed..." He ribbed her and she smiled at him, returning her eyes to the bar to pick out the scratchings in the rotting wood.

"So what's your life plan? Staying at the Rudder forever or are you going to go out and start that gang?"

"In a while. Still finding my feet." He trailed, ending awkwardly to clear his throat. Pepper looked at him.

"It's been five months since the liberation of Vault 101... If your feet are still missing then you're probably not going to find them." She teased and he frowned, twisting the toothpick before snapping it. He lit a smoke in its place.

"Yeah well..."

"You could always come with me..." Pepper looked at him, tapping him on the knee once more with the bottle. She'd never thought Butch companion material but seeing him in his old Tunnel Snakes jacket really brought back the pain of not having a home. "It'll be good to have some company. I've wandered this dust bowl for a year and it gets really lonely."

"You think I don't know what you do out there? A guy like me travelling with a goody-two-shoes like you?" He laughed in her face and she let her brows rise consciously. "No way, not ever."

"Butch, I have this feeling that I've killed more people than you have ever loved. If I'm a goody-two-shoes than you are literally the son of Mary." She sniped at him, slightly offended. She could deal with the mean nicknames - she had come to accept them - but for him to mix her up as some saint of the wastes was beyond her. "I once told a kid to run away from home... Well, he was a little asshole... But what kind of goody-two-shoes does shit like that?" She whispered and he snickered at her, face softening from the tight scowl he had harbored since her invitation. "Come on, Butch... What do you say?"

"I don't think so."

"I chainsawed a mans head off once, just because I found him going through my backpack."

"You're a wild one, nosebleed." He leant back, remembering the time she cried in class when she accidentally stapled Freddie Gomez's finger to his paper. "I'm not a big fan of walking around aimlessly."

"Are you going to be a crippled gang leader that drags himself around on his elbows all year?"

"I ain't that good with a gun." He blew a ring of smoke in her face and she rolled her eyes.

"I taught you how to shoot the night I left the Vault. It wasn't school worthy but you should have it down now... Anyone can shoot a gun, you're just making excuses."

"That was a fucking BB Gun!"

"Technically a gun." She shook her head, taking a smoke from his packet to light it wearily. Social smoking was one of the highlights of being a barfly. "You just don't want to come with me because you have a gigantic crush on me. You won't be able to keep your grubby hands off me, and you can't risk your reputation on a 'goody-two-shoes'." She turned to him, pushing her knees between his legs to lock them together in a dangerous stalemate.

He laughed at her and she grinned, exhaling the smoke from her nose. It had been a while since Butch had actually put thought into Pepper - the lone wanderer a figure of the radio that really didn't have a face. She looked like she had clawed her way out of one of the worse subways; scarred face covered by cropped dark brown hair, curled viciously around her ears to shape an awkward triangle. She had the most daring blue eyes he had ever seen, burnt with whatever terrors she had faced in the years she was away. She wasn't the timid little girl he used to ridicule at school.

Growing up, he knew that Pepper was top of the class (next to Amata) and did not get along with anyone at the best of times. Her father always supplied her with stacks of books and even got her a BB gun for her birthday one year. There were no fond memories of the girl, only a burning rage and a power struggle, especially brightened by the morning of the GOAT exam where she threatened to kick his ass after he cornered Amata.

But her being there was a nice change to the rickety mood of the crazy bar tender. It felt good to have a connection to the Vault they once called home. It wasn't their fault that their old house imploded on itself with a bunch of lunatics, but in some ways Pepper felt it was. Butch was just thankful to be free of rules. The wasteland had no rules.

"Did you really chainsaw a guy's head off?"

"Yeah. I did." She shot the rest of the vodka down her throat. She slapped more caps on the bar, enough for two bottles - one for her and one for him. "What's your poison?"

"Whiskey."

She held two fingers to the witch who bent awkwardly to retrieve two watered down bottles of dank liquid, dropping them on the table with reckless abandon. Belle and Pepper didn't really get along.

"I suppose a guy like me could go with a girl like you." He unscrewed the cap and she scoffed at him, folding her arms across her chest.

"Offer's expired, Butch." She took a drag, pooling his lap with smoke.

"Really, nosebleed? You're such a tease!"

"You that desperate be with me, DeLoria?" She asked, squeezing her thighs around his kneecap. He looked down at her grinning face, his own deadpan with rejection. He never knew her to be such a woman, considering for years she was an androgynous looking daddy's girl who had a worse bark than her bite... But now she had her hand on his leg. "Of course you can come. I'm just playing with you." She pulled away to swing her feet into the rungs of the stool. "Give you a game of pool?"

He returned a fresh toothpick to his grin, stubbing out his smoke before wiping his hands on his jacket.

"Loser buys rounds for the rest of the night." He challenged and Pepper let her brows rise humorously.

"There is _no_ way you could afford that, Butch. Give yourself a little leeway here." She pushed herself away from the bar, thumbing her whiskey as she slipped off into the dark corner of the pool table. She shrugged her jacket off of her shoulders and rested it on a booth, reaching for the pool cue only to lean on it tiredly. "You coming?"

There was something about meeting an old face from the past. Pepper never would have dreamt in her wildest of wild dreams that she would be having a friendly chat with him, but there they were – having a good time with mindless banter. Years of hatred and anguish amounted to nothing.

He sat there, slack-postured and lazy-eyed, turning his toothpick between his teeth like a rebel without a cause. The girl was chalking her stick, lining up the break with a ragged old triangle. She watched him in the dank lights of the bar. "Come on, Butch, what are you afraid of?"


	2. Dukov's Place

**I can confirm I'm having fun with this**

* * *

"What's the deal with this Dukov guy anyway?"

Butch and Pepper were crunching their way through piles of rubble, their boots slipping and grinding the dust up the legs of their armoured vault suits.

"He's an old Russian guy living in that hotel up there. He likes it when I stop in and say hello." Pepper was fiddling with her pipboy, turning the radio down a notch so she could concentrate on the noises around her. There were gunshots in the distance, the burn of an energy shot fizzling out of what only seemed a few miles away. "Besides... He always has a fully stocked liqueur cabinet and he _loves_ to share..."

She stopped walking, the energy blast now darting in the street ahead. She raised her and to Butch's chest, stopping him quietly.

"Stay close."

"If you want to get close to me, nosebleed, all you have to do is-"

"Not the time, asshole. There's an enclave soldier up there." Pepper crouched, squinting into the distance to see the energy blasts crack a cage open. Whatever was inside it was furious, thrashing its way out of its prison to stand at full height. Her eyes bulged when her brain clicked into place "What the hell is a deathclaw doing here- oh my god." She tugged his pants, urging him to join her as soon as possible. But he stood there in plain sight, scoping out the situation. "Are you stupid? Who am I kidding, BUTCH!" She whispered harshly, shaking with the fear of being cut into ribbons. "Get down!"

"I can take it." He kicked her with his foot. "Old Butch ain't afraid of a big lizard."

"What- Butch, come on. This isn't the time to be a hero. There's a big guy up there and an even bigger mutt-" her face fell into her hands, rubbing her tired eyes with the dirty butts of her palms.

Why did she ask him along again? She must have been very lonely to even consider such a blatant idiot like Butch to go with her into the wastes. He even said he couldn't shoot to save his life, and by now she should have realised that he did not back down from a fight. How could a man be so deathly afraid of bugs when he could stand his ground in the face of a leering deathclaw?

He took one shot at it and she sprung up in fright, hoisting her pack onto her shoulders hastily. The enclave soldier turned to face them, barreling their feet with green licks of burning energy - the deathclaw heaving on its two legs to speed towards them. Butch lost all confidence when he realised he couldn't take on the thing by himself, looking worriedly at Pepper - expecting her to do something.

Eyes glued to her pipboy, she started to sprint. Butch staggered along beside her.

"Run wide! They have a terrible turning circle!" She called, pulling out her hunting rifle to quickly take out the soldier's shooting arm. "Quick, you flaming fuck! Run!"

They stomped past Dukov's place, Pepper shrieking past the growling deathclaw while shakily trying to aim her weapon. She fired three shots into the soldier's chest, bullets barely punching through but pulling the man down in pain. Butch followed behind her, not as lithe as the woman but still able to produce an Olympic sprint.

They turned the corner, the lizard hot on their tail as they headed towards the lake. The monster took a swing, spinning Butch into a teeter and catching Pepper's backpack. The straps ripped from her shoulders, the pack rolling into the dust under a pile of rocks. The deathclaw stopped to look at the distraction, giving them time to leap over debris and towards the body of water that sent their pipboys shrill with warning.

An idea clicked into her head and she grasped it with both hands, tugging the sturdy forearm of her companion and leading him towards the lake.

"I can't swim!" He told her but she shook her head, powering steps shaking the dirt with a head start towards the water. She threw him in first, the liquid freezing and uncomfortable in his cotton suit - and then pulled her rifle and shotgun free, taking one last swing glance at the monster before she jumped in right behind him.

The deathclaw bounded to the edge, huffing hot jets of air from its ugly snout as it leaped in behind them. Pepper had the cuff of Butch's collar, kicking her heavy boots to propel them backwards from the struggling monster. The male was half underwater, gurgling and sputtering as he tried to keep his head above sinking.

There was never swim practice in the vault - and there was always a bridge to Rivet City... Butch was way out of his league with this wasteland-wandering thing.

Butch and the monster had something in common - the lizard sinking into the murky water as its snout bubbled out its last breaths. Pepper's arms were screaming with pain as she kicked backwards, heaving Butch into her chest to try and keep him afloat. She tread water for a moment, catching her breath as her companion moaned something about 'bad ideas', throwing her head back into the irradiated water in completion.

"You're useless, you know that?" She hissed at him as she pulled him to the shoreline, throwing herself onto her back before checking her soaking pipboy. Thank god for waterproofing - than god for Stanley.

The sun beat down on them, sucking the water out of their clothes to feed its own hunger. All was silent bar the sound of the lake lapping at their shoes, Three Dog singing happily through a soaked speaker.

Butch didn't respond; too busy coughing up a belly full of poison to say anything else. Pepper rolled onto her side to look at the man, usually styled hair rolling sloppily on his slick face. He lay there and stared back, breathing laboured and gluggy with a mixture of profanities soaking through. Without a snappy retort, Butch seemed like a wounded animal.

Pepper grit her teeth, sitting up to look down at him.

"Are you okay?" She asked, the situation awkward without his snarky voice ringing in her ears. She stood up, the water sopping in her shoes unhappily.

"Yeah."

"Come on, get up. We'll get you to Dukov's..." She grabbed his hand, pulling him onto two feet before pushing her shoulder under his arm. "I thought you were tough as shit... Come on, up up up." He staggered along to her guns where she bent awkwardly to pick them up. The Tunnel Snake stood shakily by himself, swaying on his toothpick legs while she strapped her guns to her back.

Retrieving the stuck pack from under a couple of rocks, they headed back to the Dukov's place silently. Pepper walked straight in, greeted by a happy Russian man and two surly looking women. The lone wanderer didn't mind the man because he had always let her stay in the spare room. The soundtrack wasn't the best (she could quote Cherry's enthusiasm word for word) and the giant mosaic coitus chandelier wasn't in very good taste _but_ it was a safe place to stay.

"Who's the man, sweet cheeks?" The man in the sexy sleepwear pestered as she staggered him over to the couch.

"This is Butch. We just got into a fight with a deathclaw, and we had to jump into the river down there. I think he's just got a mild case of rad poisoning." She dumped him there, gingerly slipping the pack off of her shoulders and onto the ground. "Do you mind if I fix him up here?"

"Only if you stay the night_."_ He smacked her ass, the wet _thwack _ricocheting off the hotel walls. She gave him a soft look.

"I'd like to be able to walk tomorrow, good-looking." And she waved him away, turning her attention to Butch. "How do you feel?" He looked ready to melt into the couch, head lolling onto the back of the couch.

"You never told me you had a boyfriend, nosebleed." He grinned down his nose at her, his usual cheery face pale under the warm lights_. _Although he seemed to be his usual irritating self, the dark-haired man looked drained.

"I don't." She started to unbutton his suit, pulling the jacket from his shoulders. "I don't have any clothes for men, so you're going to have to sit in your skivvies. Is that okay?"

"I think this whole thing was just to get me out of my clothes."

"Of course it was. Ass up, please." Tugging the pants off of his legs, she watched him rest his head on the soft cushion of the abandoned couch. The stale air was chilled, the wet suit not making it any better for Pepper's goose-bumped skin. Slapping Butch's jacket and clothes on the floor beside them, she dug around in her pack for a drip of RadAway.

Fixing it to his arm, she ordered him to stay put so she could stretch to full height and survey her own damage.

"Thank you, Nurse Sheridan." He called as she started to unbutton her own suit, slipping it to the floor and kicking it aside. Where the bag had been ripped off had left two purple strap marks, explaining the dull throbbing that had been inhibiting her movements earlier on. She flexed and stretched, sighing at the pain.

Turning to face the man, she shook her head.

"This is your own fault."

"My fault?"

"I told you not to shoot the damn thing and what did you go do?" Hand bent on one hip, she stared him down – nostrils flaring.

"You're not the boss of me." He answered smartly, shifting in his place uncomfortably. His cheeks were turning a pallid white – the effects of the rad medication settling into him.

"So you nearly kill yourself because you have a power complex. Real cool." She bent down to pick through her pack, digging around for Butch's cigarettes, staring at him haughtily from mid-bend. Lighting it tiredly, she sauntered away to find Dukov – leaving Butch to sit quietly on the couch.

She returned to find him hunched over, hurling gallons of water onto the polished floors. Crouching at his side, she dumped the pyjamas and held his wet hair off of his face. "Hey, Duke! Got a bucket?"

"What a soft cock!" The foreign laughter boomed over the timid giggles of the women. Pepper gave him a look, earning her a sweet grin. "Now sweet cheeks, since when did you dine on little boys?"

Pepper ashed her cigarette on the floor, turning her face from the older man to concentrate on her companion.

"I didn't think you swallowed so much water." She patted him on the back of the neck. "But congratulations, this is your first life lesson. Listen to Pepper." She cooed, reveling in her sudden power over her childhood nightmares.

"You better not tell any one about this." He told her between wretches. "Or I'll pound you into next week."

"Who am I going to tell?" She rolled her eyes, patting him again. "Cool your jets, Captain Cosmos, everyone gets a little rad sick sometimes."

He responded with a lurch of his stomach, heaving into the broken pail with mediated abandon.


	3. Vault 101

**Hello again! I wasn't happy with this chapter to start, but after a few weeks of staring at it, it began to work again. **

**Enjoy~**

The Future - Austra

* * *

"You can't fire me! I'm the leader of this gang!"

"Shut your mouth, Butch, I'm not firing you."

"Then why the fuck are we here?"

Pepper and Butch were standing outside the old wooden door to Vault 101, the lone wanderer's hand inching closer and closer to the doorknob while Butch flipped out beside her. He didn't believe that she was just going into the tunnel to drop off her monthly supply cache, preferring to read too deeply and assume that she was sending him back where he came from.

It wasn't his fault that she was a hard person to be around – all she did was run into trouble and expect him to be at the top of his game _all _the time. _He _was the leader of their gang, not her, and if she was going to be a bitch about it he would cut the ties before she got the chance.

"I told you why we're here. Lower your voice, okay? I don't want them knowing we're out here." They headed through the tunnel, Butch kicking little pebbles angrily to bounce them off the cave walls in her direction. They walked in silence for a moment while Butch pondered his executive decision, leaning against the dusty rocks with his left foot propped behind him.

"Well…" He started, finally happy with his decision. "I fire you first." He folded his arms, clicking his toothpick between his teeth irritably. The girl looked up at him, eyes ablaze with a controlled fury.

"I told you that I'm not fucking firing you. Now stop being a little bitch, _Bitch DeLoria." _She jabbed him in the chest with her pointer finger, pulling her pack off of her shoulders to tug out the small package wrapped with dirty sheets. "You can't fire me anyway, you'd die out here in the wastes. You'd be rolling around in a molerat's intestines without me."

She tucked the small package under the control panel, gingerly aligning to at least make it look alluring. She wasn't even sure that the residents of Vault 101 had taken her other packages, let alone used them… Didn't stop her from trying, though.

Ever since she blew literal chunks of the second Overseer all over Officer Gomez six months before hand, Pepper was estranged completely from her childhood home. Her friend Amata took over the role as the supreme ruler, and instantly denied the girl ever returning. Pepper understood completely, not exactly angered about her situation. It was her _choice_ to destroy Amata's father with a baseball bat, and it was her _choice_ to shoot Allen Mack close range with a double barrel…

She sighed, looking up at her mildly offended partner with sad eyes.

"Sorry, Butch, I didn't mean to get so twelve-year-old about that." She rubbed the arm of her vault suit, swinging her pack back around her arms. "Come on, buddy, let's get out of here."

"You're a real smart mouth sometimes, nosebleed." He flicked the bare skin on the back of her neck, earning him an unimpressed look. "What kind of insult is Bitch DeLoria? Like I haven't heard that one before."

"I just apologised to you, asshole! Don't make me retract it."

"Retract your attitude." He sniped at her, a high-pitched whine echoing through the tunnels after clawing up her throat. Butch was irritating to no end, but when he closed his mouth and fell asleep Pepper always reconfirmed the fact she liked having him around.

"You're a fucking smart mouth…" She grumbled, pressing towards the door as her companion trailed happily behind her. It was so easy to wind Pepper up – he had been doing it for years! He had just forgotten how fun it was.

There was a loud squeal of metre thick steel scraping together, the tunnel lighting up with bright orange warning lights as the pressure escaped from the apparently closed vault. The wind sent the two back two steps, whipped with dust and the smell of recycled air. Pepper turned stark white at the opening vault door, looking to her partner for a quick escape.

She didn't know how the residents of 101 would take it if they knew she was sneaking back to leave them little presents – they weren't exactly fond of her. Some days she would feel like no one even liked her from the moment she was brought into that vault, confirmed with Butch's rude words from short to tall and Susie Mack's rather vulgar drawings in fifth grade. Still, she felt she owed them something for partially destroying their underground paradise, leaving them a small parcel each month filled with fresh fruit from Doctor Li, a couple of wasteland magazines and any pre-war throwback merchandise she could find. It wasn't much, but it was something.

She yanked the wooden door open too fast, the deadbolt bouncing in its chamber angrily. Pepper rattled the lock in one last attempt to free them from whoever was opening the vault door. Her heart was in her throat – she didn't want to get caught, it would be far too embarrassing to be caught red-handed doing exactly the opposite of what Amata had told her to do.

"I thought I heard your voices out here."

Freddie Gomez was pale-faced in the big doorway of the vault with one of the Lone Wanderer's old rifles aimed steadily at them. The two ex-vault dwellers froze in their spot, turning to find the man with an odd look on his face. "I said to myself, '_that sounds like Butch and Pepper_' so I radioed for clearance to open the vault and here you are. If you were trying to be quiet it probably wouldn't have worked because someone was leaning on the intercom-"

"Still can talk underwater, Freddie." Butch gave his friend a quick grin, pacing up to the boy to clap him on the back. Pepper stayed glued to the door like a deer in headlights, trying to delay the miniature heart attack that threatened her already double-beating heart. "Now don't you tell anyone that you've seen me with Sheridan – she was a last resort."

"What are you two doing here?" He focused on the girl at the end of the tunnel, his gaze unnerving her to a cringe. "Pepper, you know you can't come back in."

"We ain't going back into that shit hole." Butch guffawed at the man, offering his friend the pack of cigarettes. The younger boy shook his head. "Nosebleed's just here to drop off some little pussy package for you guys. Got a guilty conscience."

"We're leaving." Pepper called, jigging the rickety door open. "Butch, if you're not coming **now,** you can stay here." Freddie gave Butch a surprised look, never having seen someone talk to the number one Tunnel Snake like that before. Any other day Butch would have harassed her until she cried, but now he was just giving her a sour look.

"Sit on it, Sheridan." He called at her, restoring earthly balance with his overcompensating ego.

"Sit on it yourself." Pepper grunted, slamming her way out of the door and stepping into the harsh sun.

She sat on a rock in the mouth of the hill and puffed on a smoke, digging the heels of her boot angrily into the dirt. How could she deal with such an asshole on a day-to-day basis? He never listened to her, even when it was necessary, and couldn't even remove the 'tough guy' shield when some form of male bonding occurred. He was still the same old asshole from her childhood and obviously her loneliness outweighed her natural instinct to survive.

It took everything in her to even attempt to get up and leave. Although she was mad she knew she couldn't leave him to make the trip from the vault to Megaton by himself. He probably would have started a fight with an Enclave eyebot or something just as petty.

Even if Butch was literally the worst companion on the earth, a little part of her wanted him to like her. Maybe one day he would see her as an asset instead of a loss… look up to her or something. She didn't know. She knew he could be a good guy, remembering her last night in the vault where he jittered uncomfortably over his endangered mother until Pepper did something about it. She even left him her BB gun in a bout of civility; actually thinking their relationship had been somehow fixed by her simmering heroics. Apparently not.

Taking a sickeningly large draw of the cigarette, she blew the smoke at her shoes and placed her head in her spare hand, rolling her forehead tiredly over her fingers like a rickety pillow.

"Still here, nosebleed? I thought you left without me." His smart voice chirped from behind her, running cold blood down her spine with a shudder. She sat in silence for a moment before springing up, hastily walking down the hill towards the wide-open Springvale. "Hey, slow down!"

Pepper said nothing, only sighing when she had to retrieve her gun to blast open the face of a radscorpian that was following behind them, snapping at Butch's heels with its tiny pincers. "Come on, Sheridan – don't be a sourpuss."

She stopped a few metres short of the Megaton front gate, turning on her heel to stand chest to chest with her dithering companion. Once she had given him the silent treatment he had begun to realise that she wasn't fucking around – knowing full well that if Pepper had left him in the middle of a town he wasn't too fond of he wouldn't survive very long. She was a bitch, sure, but she was useful as hell when he needed to get out of a sticky situation.

"What's my name, Butch?" She hissed at him, the zippers of their suits rubbing against each other with an awkward crush of metal. She was roughly his height, maybe a little taller some days, but he didn't let that hold him from dominating her in verbal abuse.

"What?" He sniffed a laugh, taking a step back to watch the girl lit up with anger. Butch enjoyed the idea of a woman scorned; it gave them a certain glow. You could always tell a woman's whole life by the way she fought.

"What's my name?"

"Pepper." He answered, watching as she folded her arms in front of the gate that was screaming open. Her eyes softened at the word that fell from his mouth, wrapping her arms tiredly across her chest.

"Well how about you use it once in a while, asshole. I have the common decency to use yours."

"Not then you didn't." He said smartly, watching her lips fold into a thin line. "I'm kidding, babe, loosen up."

"Babe." she scoffed at him, pushing through the main gate and heading towards her little house. "_Babe_. You're a joke, Butch."

"Can't be that bad if you still keep me around."

"I only keep you around because you're nice to look at." She snapped sarcastically, satisfying him but chipping a block off of his self-worth. "Not because you're of any use at all."

Clunking down the makeshift stairs in their big boots, Butch and Pepper turned in the direction of her lonely old home. The Tunnel Snake followed quietly behind her, mulling over her words with a stony face.

She pushed through her front door, dumping her backpack at the foot of the room before heading off up towards Wadsworth's study.

"This is your pad?" Butch asked, never having been inside her house before. He left his pack beside hers, drinking in the small amount of civilisation clambered inside a couple of tin walls. He and Pepper had been travelling nonstop for the past month, never stopping into trusty old Megaton until now. Pepper didn't like staying for too long because it was far too close to the vault to be comfortable.

"Yeah." The woman called from in front of the robot, greeting her butler with a happy '_hello sir! Two waters, please!_'.

"How'd you get digs like this, nosebl-… Pep?" He tried out her name like bitter medicine on his tongue. It went down smoother than expected.

"Disarmed that bomb in the middle of town." She clomped back towards him, chucking a cold bottle of purified water his way. He caught it clumsily, watching her shuck the top half of her vault suit off, tying the arms around her waist. The look he sent her almost made her grin. "Don't ask."

She took up a seat across the room from him, the male still staggering around trying to take in the experience. Pepper's house definitely beat the grimy mattresses they had been sleeping on for the previous weeks. The girl was just as tired as she always looked, slumping on the table with aching elbows and burnt eyes – no thanks to her irritating companion.

One day she would have enough caps to buy that ghoul bodyguard in the Underworld. Until then she had to stick with Butch.

"So what's for dinner, boss?" Butch humoured the woman, urging her to face him. She perked visibly, although when she turned she still had her average unimpressed look tugging on her face.

"I can get Wadsworth to find you something, I suppose."

"Wads-who?" He asked, attempting to light a smoke only to stop himself. "'M I allowed to smoke in here?"

"Go for it." She gestured for the pack, receiving it gently from his quick lob. "Wadsworth is—Wadsworth… Wadsworth!"

The robot churned in, summoned by its repeated name.

"I did not know you smoked, madam." Wadsworth floated over to Butch unhappily. "Are you having guests? Hello there, I'm Wadsworth, and I'll be taking care of you during your stay at madam's chateau."

Pepper squeaked happily at the word, the robot hoovering the air free of smoke. The male watched the bot warily, still spooked by the memory of Andy and Beatrice. Then again, Andy was never really all there, and Wadsworth seemed quite the gentleman… For a stinkin' robot, anyway.

The Tunnel Snake ignored the hunk of metal and lurched over to the Lone Wanderer, stealing the seat across from her, leaning his elbows on the table to rest his head on the backs of his hands. After droning over her words moments before, he came to the conclusion that the woman wasn't as bad as he thought. She acted just like his mother used to, only ever upset with him if he was putting himself in danger (or if he was just being a general smart ass).

"You really only keep me around 'cause I'm a pretty face, Pep?" He asked, batting his eyelashes femininely enough to make her laugh softly.

"May as well, considering you don't listen to a word I say." She looked at him cruelly, his eyes rolling in their sockets in a perfect impression of a rebellious teenager.

"Always knew you had a thing for me." He teased and she grinned, greeted with a bottle of whiskey from the hoovering robot.

"It's hard to find a man attractive after you've watched him go through puberty." She roller her eyes, cracking the lid off of the musty liquor. She huffed at her own little joke and took a swig, eyes lighting when she caught his smart glance from across the bench. "What?"

"It makes sense now, doll… all those tears must have been tears of passion."

"It's every little girl's dream to have that generic childhood asshole hit on her."

"Don't flatter yourself, nosebleed." He beamed regardless, taking the bottle from her hands. "But if it means anything to your bleeding heart, you're not as ugly as I remembered."

"You're charming." She snuffed her cigarette out in the pristine ashtray. "The Wastes turn a schoolgirl into a mistress, I heard." He watched her move quietly. "That must explain why you've blossomed so beautifully."

"My _feelings._" He mocked and she smiled at him, eyes glassing over with a slight pain.

"You thought I was ugly..?" She asked in a moment of weakness and he cocked his head.

"I was kidding. Don't start crying, nosebleed." His lips formed a straight line. "Everyone's ugly when they're a kid."

He watched her face fall and she buried her head in her hands, rubbing the pits of her eyes with the butts of her palms. The radio played a happy song but he could tell the girl was sort of hurt by his comment. Any other day that would have sung a song of triumph but in that moment he actually felt something… guilt? Nah, Tunnel Snakes don't feel guilt.

Obviously Pepper wasn't a little girl anymore. The wastes had turned her into a mistress, he would give her that. She used to look like she had been sneaking sugar bombs from the ration cupboards, but now she had a thin face with an abundance of freckles. The sun and the somewhat fresh air had done her a world of justice.

"Hey now, don't get sad." He leaned over and nipped her forearm with his fist.

"That vault gives me headaches." She looked up at him from her hands. "I don't like thinking about it."

"Then why do you go back?" He asked, more interested than he sounded. Her full face emerged, brows arched in curiosity. Butch was asking _her _questions about _her _life and _her _feelings? She laughed at him.

"I think I owe them a little something after what I did."

"So you beat the shit out of the Overseer. Everyone else wanted to." He sniffed, lighting himself another cigarette.

"Twice." She grit her teeth awkwardly. The boy flashed a grin at her.

"I never pegged you for a wild one, Sheridan. It's kinda becoming."

"I thought you thought I was ugly." She spoke quietly but he knew she was kidding. His brow rose and he took a drag of his cigarette, pooling the smoke into her lap with the purse of his lips. The singlet she wore played perfectly with the dim lights, shadowing all the nice parts into a delicious scene.

"If it makes you feel any better, Pep, I wouldn't do you from behind."

"That could be interpreted as an insult, Butch." She took a swig from the bottle, looking at him incredulously.

"Supposed to be a compliment." His words were muffled through his cigarette, pinching the filter with his long fingers. She looked up and caught his eye.

"So you'd fuck me?" She asked, her teeth skimming over her bottom lip in a very cheeky grin. She pushed a fluff of hair behind her ear. "You of all people would like to fuck _me_?"

"If the time ever came, and it was just the two of us, last people on earth…" He trailed off at her sycophantic look.

"Don't backtrack, Butch. You just said you want to fuck me."

"What, do you want me to?" He teased and she just grinned back.

"Don't turn this back to me." Pepper goaded him. "I already told you that the wastes turns a girl into a woman – it's not like I'm a weepy virgin anymore." Her lips curled into a sly smile. "Then again… I never really heard much of your action in the vault… heard you fingered Susie Mack that one time but you never really hit a home runner, didya?"

His palms went flat on the bench top and he pushed himself out of his seat, dipping his head to hers as he breathed on her face. "Are you trying to say that the Butchman is a fuckin' virgin?"

"Hurt your feelings, did I?" She whispered, her nose brushing his. The bitch was a little crueller than he remembered.

He flopped back into his seat and scowled.


	4. Bathroom Stall

**Sexual situations in this one + a fair load of rambling on my behalf.**

* * *

Butch found it strange that Pepper kept a 'secret' stash of caps throughout her bag. The woman was very generous with her money on a bad day – always finding a roof for their heads, consistently eating and drinking a generous amount and never running out of ammo or medicine. She had quite the little system going on when his back was turned, like a black market of sorts brewing in her backpack. Everything was trade cheap, sell high, trade high, sell even higher – her palms constantly flowing with a rattle of caps.

Pepper had worked her ass off trying to save enough caps to pick up that ghoul bodyguard in the Underworld. She had been pulling every trick in the book to be able to reach her sum-total of one thousand, eight hundred and twelve bottle caps, quite a feat in her mind as all she did was scrounge around for money. It was like she had acquired a nose for steel.

Although she was a rich young woman, Butch noticed, she didn't look it at all. She was constantly dirty-faced and chapped-lipped. She could have marketed her way into Tenpenny Tower and lived a very healthy life but instead she chose to look like every other wastelander. She'd always been very humble, even as a kid, and that annoyed the shit out of him. He picked at her about that.

"What?" She asked, head buried in a crate. Butch stood watch at the door.

He grit his teeth around the toothpick and cleared his throat to repeat himself. "If you're such a rich bitch then why are we digging through this dirt pile?"

"Where'd that come from?" She asked, leaning up to return with a glowing bottle of Nuka Cola. "I swear you have a chemical imbalance some days, because your conversation skills are _really_ sporadic."

"Answer the question, nosebleed." He huffed, kicking a piece of rubble into the rubbery flesh of a dead ghoul. They had cleared out a whole building of the fuckers, the Tunnel Snake sporting a few more manly scars for his ever-growing collection. It had become a popular hobby when he had teamed up with Pepper, the two often comparing their welts by low light campfires.

"If I'm such a rich bitch…- Ah, um, money doesn't grow on trees, Butch." She stated clearly, tucking the bottle softly into her pack. "And even if it did, we still wouldn't have any because there's no more trees."

"I know you've got enough money to let us take a break." The certainties in his voice made her freeze, looking over at him in the dark room. From her crouched position all she could see was his silhouette, the grace of his hair to the bulge in his vault suit.

"I'm saving for something." She told him, returning her eyes into the dimly lit pack. "And what do you care? You want to take a break that badly?"

"We've been walking around this shit hole for months, babe, I'm sick of sleeping on gross-as-fuck raider mattresses."

"A man of luxury." She said happily, stretching to full height. "I'm sure we could go back to Rivet City for a while. I was hoping to get to Girdershade but the Prince wishes otherwise, so…" Pepper tucked the pack onto her shoulders as they exchanged looks, his sour and hers sickly sweet. "Prince Butch."

"What're you saving for?" He prodded further, gaining a bland look from the girl.

"A bodyguard." She watched the look on his face ferment and she scoffed. "Come on now, it's not like you've ever leapt in front of a bullet for me."

"No one would, even if you paid them." He shot back and she sighed like a mother to a child.

"Probably not, Prince Butch, but this one has to. He's part of a contract, and I've had my eye on him for months. His boss is a bit of a ball-breaker but ghouls aren't exactly known for their cuddly behaviour."

"Now hold a bit, girlie… you're going to _buy _someone. Isn't that bad?"

"Whoa-oh." Pepper looked at the boy dubiously. "_Saint _Butch. Don't you lecture me on wasteland etiquette."

"Do you even listen to the god damn radio, nosebleed? Ghouls are people too." He felt uncomfortable with the idea of owning another person. He'd never met a ghoul personally, other than the jittery one in that one saloon in Megaton, but from what he had gathered was that they weren't too bad. It took a while to get used to the whole skin-less thing but underneath all the mush was just another person. If Butch could understand the concept, why couldn't Pepper? He was beginning to realise she wasn't as nice as she put off.

"I understand that." Pepper argued. "But this one wont talk to me, so I haven't been able to form an emotional bond with the guy." She waved her hand at him. "I don't like the concept of slavery, it's wrong – but having someone in a situation where they can't say 'no'... I can use that to my ability."

She caught her counterpart's sickened look and she rolled her eyes at him, stepping over the torn up corpse that blocked their path.

"And you were gonna be the vault chaplain." He tsk'd awkwardly and she laughed at him, nudging him with her elbow.

"I don't think you understand the concept of church, Butch."

"I dunno, I never even went." He dug his smokes out of his newly armoured vault suit. "Always on about God and shit…" He lit the stick and dragged.

"God has nothing to do with chapel!" She jeered. "Well, maybe a little, but not in the way you think. See, churches are non-profit organisations, right? Preaching about this old guy up in the sky that controls everything, and if you give a little money every Sunday you may just have a chance to meet the big man up in heaven when you die." She rattled on, almost losing the man's attention. "You just have to know how to handle the money, you understand? Everything's all about the money, and it's easy to get if you can make big promises like meeting god. And people only wanna meet god because they don't want to go hell."

"I get ya, I get ya."

"Right, so church is just like the wasteland. People think that if they give a little, they gain a little more. People have this firm belief in karma, and it doesn't hurt that I look like a sad puppy that's been recently kicked, so if you put two and two together you'll get my situation."

"And?"

"Long story short, Butch, you've got two types of people. The good and the bad, and either way they'll give into you. Be it empathy or just greed, everyone has a selling point. The good people break if you look like an orphan, and the bad people jump for their own selfish gain. It's like a big game."

They headed into a bathroom, the girl pressing against the wall dig around in age-old medicine boxes. She had her screwdriver pressed into the lip of the lock, a bobby pin wedged between her teeth.

"And I'm just the lonely old chaplain, bridging gaps." She muttered, retrieving the pin to pry open the lock. She tossed the thing to the floor, the heavy metal chipping the grimy tiles. "Life is confusing, but you catch my drift, right?"

There was a scuttling down the hall and Butch stuck his head out of the doorway, attempting to find the disturbance - anything to get away from Pepper's words.

"You women fuckin' talk a lot." He told her as she tucked the stims into her pack. Her brows rose and he turned to face her, catching her look. She took the 10mm from her hip.

"You've got a bit of a mouth on you too, DeLoria." She turned to kick open a stall. The door bounced on its hinges as she lowered her pistol. "I'm just explaining life as I see it." She craned her neck to look at him over her shoulder, grinning. "Lighten up, Saint Butch."

"Just because I don't think people shouldn't be sold as property doesn't mean I'm some stupid saint, nosebleed."

"And just because I like to help people out doesn't mean I'm a goody-two-shoes." She finished. "You understand my pain?"

"Barely." He grunted as she wrenched the top of the toilet off, inspecting the dirty water.

He didn't find her repulsive, just bad. In the vault she always had her head in one of those books her father passed her, and if she wasn't reading she was sitting back watching Amata overachieve. It was easy to pick on her because she looked so weak – fat-cheeked and prone to nosebleeds like a possessed child or something. Her father explained to him and all his peers that they were 'fits' caused by stress, but they only ever happened when he made her cry.

Now she was a hard-ass with a certain disdain for human life. Maybe she had a reason to be so cynical.

"Here we go, look at this!" She fished out a scoped .44 magnum in a plastic bag. "Clean this little shit up and that's another 300 or so caps, maybe more. I am content." She shook the bag at him and he sighed, flicking his cigarette away. She smiled warmly at him, clicking the porcelain back together. "What's the problem, my man?"

"Nothin'." He looked at her and he rolled his eyes at her empathetic look. "And don't be a girl about this. When a guy says nothin's bothering them, they mean it." He turned back to the doorway and was greeted by the shiny back of a radroach. "Jesus Christ!" He blanched, whipping out his pistol and blowing a hole near his foot before spattering its soft insides all over his shins.

"Real smooth." She complimented, tucking the wet bag into a pocket of her pack. Butch scratched his neck with the hot tip and sighed, shaking his head before turning the toothpick between his teeth. Her brows rose happily. "You know what, Butch? In the right light you're a handsome man."

He grinned in achievement, shaking his head again.

"Hey now girl, don't you try and chat me up after telling me how heartless you are."

"I bet you'd be into something like that." She was feeling confident with her words, happy with her ability to turn the conversation back around. It was easy to get Butch tangled in a teasing web of possible sex, and the longer she put it off the more it would bother him.

He was absolutely useless, yes, but considering the wasteland is a sea of strangers Butch was the catch of the day. She could count on the fatuous man to keep himself clean, because if he loved his downstairs just as much as his upstairs he was obviously the perfect choice.

She hated who he was, sure, yes, probably not as much as she hoped, but there was _nothing _wrong with sleeping with the guy. There was something really sexually stimulating about the thought of having that one asshole from school pound her harder than she could ever imagine. The thought sent small thrills through her irides.

"Don't give me this shit, Pepper, if you want a piece of the Butchman all you have to say is 'please'." He tugged his collar coolly.

"Who said anything about that?" Her brows quirked and his furrowed, catching the ridiculous pleasure in her eyes. Ah, girls… that look _always_ got him.

"Come 'ere." He twitched his fingers at her, spitting the toothpick to his right.

"Whatcha want?" She asked warily, turning to face him. He had already turned on her, taking quick steps to corner her in the stall. He shut the door behind them, turning the lock. "It's a little cramped in here, _Butchman_." Her body was already throbbing at the idea of their bodies pushed together.

"Just like the vault, then." He ribbed her, reaching around to close the seat of the toilet. She sniffed a laugh at him and he pulled her bag from her shoulders, dumping it beside them before holding her against the side of the stall.

"Real smooth." She purred again. He was leaning imperturbably over her, hand pressed beside her ear against the rickety wall. "You think you're gonna get some in a bathroom stall?" His hand had snaked up in true Tunnel Snake fashion, running her suit's zip down to her hips.

"Well you ain't stoppin' me, are you?" His hands arched down and touched the smooth skin where her tank top had ridden up.

"This is really dangerous…" She trailed off, looking at the locked door. "We'll be ghoul food if we're not careful."

"Don't be such a scaredy-cat, nosebleed." His fingers went south and dipped into her underwear, pulling and adjusting the elastic band to his content. "Thought you were a big girl."

"Shut up." She scowled in his face half-heartedly, all emotions faltering as he pressed his hips against hers. Pepper always thought Butch was more bark than bite but he was proving quite the opposite. His fingers gave her goose bumps as they brushed her small patch of hair.

"Make me." He told her pointedly before pushing his whole palm into her panties, slipping his fingers between her legs to find her pleasure button. The sudden contact shocked her and she jumped at the feeling, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

"Oh…" She didn't think he would actually do it – she thought he had more dignity than that. Apparently she had egged him on _too _well.

His two fingers moved in circles, sending tremors down through her legs, turning them wobbly. She clung to him as he adjusted his hands, dipping a finger inside of her to collect the wetness. A soft squeak clawed from her throat and landed on his shoulder, the lone wanderer burying her face in his neck as she bit the skin softly.

"Jesus… Oh wow… Butch…" She puffed, his fingers circling her clit lazily as the situation built her climax. It had been a while since someone had touched her so intimately, and that person being Butch turned her sick fantasies to life. Her sixteen-year-old self would have been horrified but in that moment she wanted nothing more than to sit him down and get pregnant.

His digits teased her slit, stealing the warmth but returning to cause mass tremors down and throughout her legs. "Just put it in… _Christ_." She whined, rubbing his nose on his. He leant in to steal a small kiss but she turned her head, sending him to dip into the crevice of her neck.

"I bet you'd like that, huh nosebleed?" His voice was hushed at her throat, his warm breath sending goose pimples up and down her arms. She shuddered on his fingers, rolling her hips to try to force them inside of her. Pepper needed to feel him inside of her – all of his teasing on the clit driving her mad with hysteria. She needed him to make her cum, but he was being an asshole.

"Don't be a cunt, Butch, _please._" Rocking her hips, she could feel him give in and gingerly put a single finger inside of her. She gasped at the intrusion and jerked, tightening around his middle finger. He slipped the second in a moment later, curling his joints to pinpoint her little spot. Within minutes he had her shaking, biting down on his shoulder in attempt to muffle whatever yelps were forcing themselves out of her lungs. "I'm really close… Ah, please don't- please don't stop, ah, _please._"

He froze and withdrew himself quickly, leaving her brain shrieking on edge as she was just about to come. Her whole world boomed with the blood in her ears, body shaking and heaving as the great feeling subsided into a dull arousal. She was throbbing, twitching but she had not climaxed. It made her fists clench around him and she threw her head back in annoyance, smacking it on the stall wall.

"What are you doing- Christ, come on, I said please- fuck!" His forehead was pressed against hers as her breaths escaped in shallow huffs, eyes burning bright with a fire that burnt out of control. "Don't do this to me, please."

She could feel his erection pressing against her crotch and she whined, gyrating her hips into his to get a small, but faint, groan out of him.

"Maybe later." He told her, grinning as he reeled back, resting his back against the opposite stall wall. They stared at each other for a moment, the man taking in the look of the heaving girl with smart eyes. She had basically melted around him, and it would be a lie to say that it was easy to pull away. But he had to watch her squirm – one last time – he could not help himself.

She socked him in the chest.

"Oof!" He doubled over, still managing to grin cheekily through his wheezes. "_Fuck_ **_off_**, nosebleed."


	5. Underworld

**This just sort of kept going. **

* * *

Butch was staring up at the tall ghoul. The fucker must have been at least six-foot, the Tunnel Snake's five-eight nothing compared to the sheer size of the grumbling fellow. At first he was told to speak to 'Ahzrukhal', the boy connecting the name to the ugly-looking bastard that Pepper was having a heated chat with, but Butch still found himself sneering at the thought of another man (albeit a very old one missing most of his skin) hanging around The Lone Wanderer.

"I'll give you one thousand caps, give or take." The woman was leaning on the bar, nestled between two smashed ghouls. The barman looked down at her, resting the gritty elbows of his dirty suit on the equally as dirty bench.

The old bastard had a sick little thing for the woman. If he weren't a professional he would have gone feral on her. The way she carried herself like she knew she was better than all of them, and she definitely didn't care if anyone thought any different, made him so angry it began to affect his barely there loins.

Pepper always had the arms of her vault suit tied around her waist when she was inside, curly hair tapered just below her ears – showing her soft skin like an apple in the Garden of Eden. The many times she returned to his bar and spent her caps lead him to believe that she knew exactly how he felt about her – and knew to play on it like a pro, too.

"You're insulting me, vault girl." The man scoffed at her, leaning back to straighten up. "No deal."

"One thousand caps is a lot of money, Uncle Ahzrukhal." She turned the eyes on, glittering like a young girl begging for her father's wallet. "Look at what I have to work with!" She added, looking over her shoulder at the sallow looking Tunnel Snake. "Charon will really help me out in the field, and I promise to hit him twice a day. Three times, if I'm feeling it."

The ghoul actually scoffed at her, returning to his slouch to get in her face.

"One thousand five hundred. No less."

"I can do that." She sighed for show, dragging one of her many purses out. "How about an extra fifty for being such a generous old man." Pepper smiled, slipping the velvet bag over to the man before pulling the other 50 from the big pocket on her side.

"Most generous I've ever been, vault girl." He counted them slowly, glancing up every few moments to watch the young woman. "Getting too old for this shit."

"If you ever want him back all you have to do is ask. I'll do you a good deal."

"May as well just hire him, then." The ghoul said flatly, staring at her from dilapidated eye sockets. "You're three caps short."

"Three caps-? That's not possible." She frowned.

"You questioning my counting, smoothskin?" He growled, suddenly annoyed.

"Hang on, I count those caps everyday." With a crease in her brow, she turned on the stool to catch her companion. She found him in an illegitimate staring contest with her latest conquest. "Hey, Butchman, have you been in my purse?"

"Course I have." He called back, not breaking eye contact with the large ghoul. Charon stared back down at him; his irritation growing larger the more the Snake twisted that goddamn toothpick between his teeth.

"How much did you take, asshole?" Pepper called again, the Tunnel Snake giving up the staring contest. He turned and caught the glance of every ghoul in the bar, sending them back an even crueller sneer.

"Only three, _nosebleed_." He folded his arms.

"Well then," Pepper's nostrils flared as her lips pursed "how about you tell me next time." She turned back to Ahzrukhal, digging out another three caps from her bag. "You see what I have to deal with? At least your god damn lackey won't talk back."

The business ghoul locked the caps into his safe, returning with a musty piece of paper that was the embodiment of Charon's life. Handing it over to the young woman, Ahzrukhal gave her one look.

"He doesn't respond to physical violence, but nothing stirs him more than a little bit of deprecation." He said as she attempted to tug the paper from his grubby fingers. "He's been a _very_ naughty boy." He let it go and she took the soft paper into her fingers. Charon was hers.

"They say that about you too." She grinned, slipping from her seat. "Thank you very much, Uncle Ahzrukhal-" she reached out her hand. He took it, shaking it firmly with a steady look on his face at the feeling of smooth human skin under his own fleshy mess. The woman could have offered herself to pay for Charon and he would have said yes. "-, pleasure doing business with you."

Pepper headed over to the two men, bumping Butch out-of-the-way with her hip to stand in front of her newly claimed companion.

"You're coming with me, big boy." She cooed up at him, showing him the damaged piece of paper. The ghoul looked down in thought, shot-gun strapped to his back looking more and more threatening under the dimming lights. "And you," she looked back to Butch "you're getting a lecture on the penalties of stealing from me."

"You can fucking try, but I don't think you'll too far, nosebleed."

"You forget I now own that big motherfucker staring down at you, right? He has to do what I tell him to." She teased and the boy grumped, spitting his toothpick on the ground.

"You hold my contract now." It was the first time Charon had said something decent to the woman, causing her brows to raise.

"Yes, sir. We're going to hit the road soon so if you could grab all your worldly possessions quickly..."

"I have something I need to do before we go." He stated simply, perking to leave. The girl watched him with wide eyes, taking in his gigantic form with a certain sense of pride. She had finally reached her goal of scoring the heavy-looking ghoul bodyguard from the Underworld. It had been a dream since she had first stumbled into the museum.

"Hey, go for it." She stepped out of his way and he brushed past her, the two vault dwellers watching in awe as the ghoul moved so fluidly it was almost ethereal.

"Come to say goodbye?" Ahzrukhal laughed, holding out his arms in a mock hug. The taller ghoul was all business it seemed, ripping his shotgun from his back to blast the business ghoul's head off in one loud shot. Pepper and Butch were flattened by the suddenness of it all, watching in horror as the fresh body slumped backwards on the floor. Just to make sure, Charon blasted the dead man again in the stomach.

"Well shit, nosebleed." Butch was the first to speak after an ugly moment of silence, and although his voice was shaky it still had a cheeky edge to it. "You better treat him right."

* * *

"You can hit him if you want." Pepper had returned to her two companions with three bottles of water, two purified, one irradiated. "Only softly, though, don't make him anymore useless than he already is."

Charon gave something of a snort at her words, swinging a look down to the haughty Tunnel Snake. He wondered why the two of them stuck together, considering all they did was bicker with each other. The Wanderer seemed like an okay girl, a little brutal when it came to conversation tactics but smart with her money... And the boy, well, he wasn't as useless as she thought he was.

"Don't listen to her, man." The boy waved the insult off. "She's just angry because she needs to get laid."

The woman sent him a dark look, hands finding her hips.

"Well, guess what we're doing tonight then." She sent back, her voice equally as casual. Butch licked his lips.

"Who? Me or the ghoul?" He retorted, smoke in his mouth as he unscrewed the cap.

"Either or." Pepper shrugged, giving her childhood hatred a smart look. He returned it.

"Hey, buddy," he turned away to stare up at the tall ghoul "you're in for a real treat with her. Into all that kinky shit," his eyes were lighting with a certain fire, teeth snapping for effect. "Likes to bite."

"Knock it off, asshole." The woman went a slight tinge of pink, shaking her head. "If anything, I'll have Charon hold you down while I take advantage of you." She took a sip of water, sending him a look from behind the bottle.

Butch's face fell flat and she laughed at him, hiking her pack on to her shoulders tightly.

"Where are we going?" The tall man asked, changing the subject before they started taking off each other's clothes. _That's why they stick together_, he thought silently, watching them with empty eyes, _filled with raging hormones_. All he was to them was a chaperone - a stern father keeping an eye on them on their wasteland date. Vault kids…

"First we'll stop in at Megaton, and then we'll head to Girdershade. I've got some shit to drop off there to some kook of a woman."

"Not that creepy bitch again, nosebleed." Butch almost moaned. "Her boyfriend doesn't like me."

"That ain't her boyfriend." Pepper sighed back. "Hey Charon, down in Girdershade, there's only two little shacks. One's filled with all this NukaCola merchandise and this loopy broad who collects it all, and the other's for the man who's trying to fuck her."

"I've seen worse."

"Trust me on this, it is absolutely _pathetic_ watching him try, and still get nowhere fast. If only his dick was the shape of a Nuka bottle, then he'd get somewhere."

"If she keeps her mouth shut, I can see where he's coming from. Not to the point of fucking moving there though." Butch added. The two grinned at each other in agreement; happy with each other for a split second before Butch spoke again. "But then again I'm still here with you so maybe I like them a little bit loopy."

Pepper's eyes darkened over, catching the quick glance of her contract companion.

"Hold him down."

* * *

"What do you think of Butch?" Pepper sat them down under a collapsed overpass, shielded from the world by rubble and crusty debris. They had a small fire going, not big enough to make too much smoke but still enough to send nasty shadows up everyone's faces.

Butch was outside, having a cigarette on guard duty as he sat painfully on a bit of rubble. He didn't like being outside – it was far too open for him. Pepper had swung him on guard duty without a second thought, cornering her newest companion in their little hut for a bonding session.

The ghoul was cross-legged and cleaning his gun, feeling far too old to be looking after a couple of kids with nothing better to do than walk. But he had to be there, so long as she had that contract folded neatly in her backpack. He hadn't had to make any loopholes yet, because Pepper was yet to give him any real commands. Other than holding Butch's hands behind his back as she punched him (only once) in the gut a few hours earlier, it had proved an easy job.

Charon could only grumble in reply to her question, not interested in gossiping with a young girl. Pepper just looked at him tiredly, the insides of her feet pressed together with her elbows on her bent knees.

"Charon, please tell me what you think of my charming vault counterpart." She grinned politely, rubbing her eyes as she waited patiently for the response. "Is he worth keeping around now that you're here?"

"He's not as bad as you think he is." He grunted back, eyes to the dirt.

"_Really?" _

"Have you watched him kill something?"

"Not often. But he does." She answered slowly, wondering where the conversation could possibly be going.

"Efficiently. A little messy, but never gets too hurt?"

"How do you know that?" She asked skeptically, leaning forward to listen to him.

"He looks like the type of guy who refuses to let things go."

The Tunnel Snake _had _been hounding her for weeks about finding more pomade. Pepper had given up on hair products the moment she stepped out of that fucking vault. Maybe it was all Butch had. Maybe Butch needed the pomade to remind him that he was still useful, at least as a hairdresser (or a barber, sorry). And Pepper realised that if Butch had gotten shot, or even stabbed or burnt or drilled or scratched, he would _not _have shut up about it for the rest of his life. If pomade was a big deal, then getting wounded was the Taj Mahal of all his problems.

Butch suffered in silence. God bless him.

Speaking of the devil, the man popped his head into the crumbling doorway (or what they assumed was). Butch wanted to sneak back in with them so he wouldn't have to be alone – which was not as chicken as it sounds!

"Nothing much but a bunch of those floating fuckers out there. Keep getting into fights with those fucking scorpions." He looked anxiously into the small room, resting his eyes on Pepper who sent him an identical look back.

"Hope a radscorpion doesn't get in here while we sleep." She teased, knowing full well that they wouldn't have been able to fit through the doorway. The boy rolled his eyes at her, glancing at Charon who snapped a fat cylinder of ammo into the barrel of his gun.

"It's my turn for watch." The ghoul stood up to half height, having to basically crouch to fit into their ugly little house. Butch shook his head.

"I'm good for now, man." He didn't want go back into the small room alone with the girl who had recently left a welt the size of a baseball on his stomach. Then again, he could probably complain about it for a while and make her feel bad… didn't seem like a bad idea, actually. Pepper always got a look on her face when she was feeling miserable about picking on him… still far more sensitive than she put off. "Wait," the ghoul was frozen mid-step, like a hulking mass of armor "no, go ahead. I want to get some sleep."

Skidding into the dirt next to his partner, Butch took his pack and attempted to use it as a pillow. Considering Pepper had filled it with dozens of Nuka Quantums, he doubted he would get a comfortable sleep as he had originally thought. He looked up at her dubiously, finding her staring right back down at him.

"What?" He snapped, picking up on the twitch in her brow.

"Just looking at the ugliest little boy in the world. I should charge for these things."

"Getting _so smart _at your comebacks, nosebleed." He breathed, rolling onto his back and crossing his arms behind his head. "You and I both know you think Butchman's the cat's pajamas, babe. No need to fight it."

"We can't have that head of yours any bigger than it already is." She shook her head, patting him on the forearm. "We don't have that much pomade! You'll be out in a week."

"Pomade will be the last of your problems when I'm finished with you in a minute, girl." He warned, shaking her off. The girl scoffed a laugh, a nasally 'Hah!' bouncing around the camp.

"Only a minute?" She grinned, knowing she had won. Nothing burnt Butch worse than a shot at his abilities.

He sat up to remove the toothpick from between his teeth.

It was like turning on a magnet, snapping them familiar with a weird attraction – sucked in to orbit the all mighty sun. Her heart jumped at the thrill of his sudden movements, feeling him place two hands either side of her to lean in real close. She could smell the cigarettes on his breath and the grease in his hair, eyes shining into hers – both a lit with a daring fire that pushed them closer by the second.

She grabbed the collar of his vault suit, pulling him near. She was already dragging her lips down the side of his face, knowing there was definitely no going back now. "Do you really want Charon knowing you're a one-minute guy?" She whispered in his ear softly, feeling him shudder slightly.

She ran her bottom lip over his own, nipping softly before pulling away when he went to steal a proper kiss.

"You're a _real _bitch, Pepper." He groaned quietly, too wooed to even think about stopping. She stretched her legs out beneath him and he hoisted one of his own over them, sitting on her thighs to keep her there while he pushed her hair from her face. Pepper's fingers slipped under the sleeves of his jacket, yanking them from his shoulders and leaving it forgotten in the dirt while she worked on the zip of his suit.

The cotton slid from his shoulders, allowing her to run her fingers down the soft skin of his bare arms, thumbs hooking into the pits of the white shirt to tug it off slowly. It got as far as the new welt on his stomach, the girl's new persona faltering at the realization that _she _did that.

"Uh," she coughed out, catching his attention.

"What?"

"Does that hurt?" She asked and he looked down, spotting the purple bruise that sat to the right of his bellybutton. Butch frowned.

"A little… but that just means that _you're _gonna have to get on top." He teased, pulling off his shirt to return to prying off hers. He caught her sad face and he sighed. "Don't fucking pull this now, Pep. We were kinda gettin' along."

"Right." She said shakily, finding her feet. "I know. Where were we?" Pepper asked, running her eyes down his torso. She'd never really looked under his suit before. In fact, it was almost a little weird to find that his skin tone continued under the blue material.

Lightly tanned and bright-eyed, the man tugged off her singlet to make good use of her chest. Hands slipping under the worn bra, his fingers teased the soft skin of her breasts as her breathing quickened, face flushed and grinning as he placed small kisses between the two, having forgotten what breasts actually felt like. Susie Mack didn't really have any.

Pepper's hands tangled in his stiff hair, letting out little happy gasps at his intruding mouth. The mixture of his roughened hands and his soft mouth gave her goose bumps. Butch had to admit that Pepper turned him on. There was no doubt… maybe that's why they fought so much. All throughout his years in the vault he thought that she was a gross-looking daddy's girl but in all honesty, other than the thinning of the face, she had not really changed at all.

He thought about back when he was 16, how he would kick the back of her chair in class and she would whip around to scold him in that same mocking tone she still used to that day. That's when he realised that she wasn't _that _bad-looking. Didn't stop him from being an asshole, though.

And five years later he had his face buried between her breasts, sneaking the straps off her bra off of her shoulders to reveal the treasure of all treasures – the soft white flesh of a woman that made it impossible for every man to think straight.

"Well at least there's one nice thing about you, nosebleed." He took them in both hands, kissing each one as a grin fell on her face.

"I'm glad you think so." Her fingers curled in his hair as his mouth made love to her chest, his tongue flicking expertly like a conductor urging the notes from her shuddering body. Her hands travelled down his neck, tickling lazy patterns as her gasps echoed off the jutting debris.

The bends of his fingers were tugging down the rolled-up jumpsuit, slipping them just over the curve of her hips before returning his face to hers, bumping their noses as he whispered "_Maybe you might just get lucky this time, babe._"

Butch leant up to steal a kiss, only to be greeted with the tip of her chin. He was losing stride with the constant denial of his mouth on hers, irritated by her nails digging into his biceps as she pushed away.

"No kissing." She huffed, pink-cheeked and flustered – sitting shirtless in front of him and not even caring how much he could see. "Too intimate."

"I think what we're doing is pretty fucking intimate." He leant back, surveying her heaving form. She looked decent like that; underneath him with goosebumped skin and her bottom lip between her teeth.

"You're getting confused again, Butch." She forced herself up, kissing the middle of his ribcage. She looked up at him, chin on his chest with her blue eyes shining right into his. "I don't want you to make love to me… I want you to fuck me. You said you would, and now the time is here and _I _want _you _to _fuck me._"

He stared at her for a moment, wondering where the little girl who used to bleed and cry for no reason went to… Now she was begging him for sex. What luck! The Butchman _always _had great luck. He wasn't going to let it bother him – in fact; it didn't bother him at all!

She didn't want to be kissed? That was more than fucking okay. Less chance of her becoming too attached to him – he didn't want that. Having the same girl on his arm never really appealed to him anyway, and it would have been ten times worse if it was Pepper 'Nosebleed' Sheridan – daddy's girl and regular vault dork.

Still, he couldn't deny how nice she felt under his fingers, his eyes locked onto her chest that had slowed as the moment began to fade away. They watched each other for a moment, signing a certain sort of contract in their mind to agree on all the terms and conditions in their relationship. He nodded and she grinned, tugging him back into her neck, his lips touching the soft skin of her collarbone as she-

"I can see a group of raiders migrating to the west of us. If we move now we can avoid them finding u-…."

The two were sitting next to each other quite casually after that, Pepper's leg swung over the other as she leant back on the palms of her hands – chest bare and lips thin. The Tunnel Snake noticed this, covering her with his forearm, hand gripping her soft side.

"Charon." She greeted nonchalantly with Butch nodding along – the ghoul taking a split second to register his retreat. He _was _a chaperone… that was all he was, and the first night on the job he failed at keeping the boys and girls apart. Still children in his eyes and there they were, not even 10 foot away from him and still started something. Not even five minutes after he left, either…

He sat there, ghosted for a minute with glossy eyes – wondering where exactly he went wrong in his life. He could list a lot of things, but none would explain his current 'baby sitter' task.

Pepper zipped up her suit, flicking the channels on her pipboy to figure out what was what, but time was running out as she registered four red ticks on the compass. She staggered up, bracing herself on an iron rod jutting from the roof.

"Well, this blows…" Butch huffed from the ground, the Lone Wanderer looking down at him.

"Another time, I promise." She held out her hand and he grabbed it, hoisting himself up. She strapped her rifle to her back, stretching her arms with delicious _crack_s.

Even though his dick was basically crying, he knew he would get her one day. The next time they were in Megaton he was going to lock Wadsworth out of her bedroom and give her exactly what she wanted – no holds barred, all day and night until she said 'no more'.

Butch frowned, watching the girl stoop out the doorway with a bend of her back, quickly zipping up his suit and retrieving his shitty 10mm from its holster. Maybe he was in far too deep already – still fantasizing about all the possible ways he was allowed to touch her... He shook it off, digging through his bag but returning clean. Where the fuck were his smokes?

"Do we still have time to move, or should we stay and fight?" Pepper had her hands on her hips, looking out west to see the rabid mongrels called Raiders fucking around in the pale moonlight. She heard Butch kick sand over the fire inside the little house.

"It's too open out here to run. They'll see us anyway, so we may as well get the jump on them." Charon glanced down and she smiled softly.

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It's none of my business." He replied, taking his shotgun from his back, almost shrugging with the lethargy of a teenage boy. Patting the ghoul on the arm, Pepper went back into the shelter to return with a pair of binoculars and an extra gun – the scoped .44 magnum she had salvaged from the toilet a few weeks earlier. She hadn't had the heart to let it go… something about a 'lucky toilet revolver'. Actually, she hadn't sold anything from that day.

Pressing the binoculars to her face, she centered in on the dirty creatures, three women, one man (a happy man, by the looks of it), two armed with knives and one with what looked like a minigun.

It was a minigun... And was that bitch carrying a flamer?!

"What the hell…" Pepper squinted, leaning back suddenly to chuck the pair at the ghoul. "Look at that! Those fuckers have heavy artillery! How the fuck did those bastards manage to get that!?"

"Probably pried them from some stupid mutie's cold dead hands." Charon crouched, taking a long, hard look at the four raiders where were gallivanting through the wastes jacked up on god knows how many chems… Not the best situation to be caught in in the dark.

"Do you think we can quietly go back into the shelter and sit in the dark until they pass?"

"That sounds like a good idea." The ghoul didn't want to push his luck. There was a good chance that these chemheads were too fucked to do anything, but there was an even better chance that they had consumed an almost lethal amount of psycho. He didn't want to test that theory, especially not with his contract holder around.

He gestured her towards the doorway, greeted by the half-irritated, half-aroused Butch, suit barely zipped and one arm in his jacket. He spotted Pepper, still more comfortable than he needed to be in their situation, combing his hair back up with his fingers.

"Hey ya bitch," he asked loudly and clearly "where the fuck did you put my smokes?"

Butch's voice carried for _miles_.

Oh, the end of them was nigh, and it was charging at full speed with a heavy barrel and a _ratatatat._ Pepper was on the ground instantly, lining up one of the women down her barrel and firing, embedding it in the raider's leg. The woman fell and howled, startling nearby radscorpions and yao guais and muffling the echo of another shot ringing through the night.

The moonlight that filtered through space to the flat wasteland gave vision to the gnarled screams of two fallen raiders, both by shots to the legs fired from Pepper's gun. Charon was too far away to make contact, and as the raider boy stopped to reload Pepper threw her rifle to the ghoul.

"Take it," she mumbled, "use it. Do whatever, I don't know!" Waving him away, she buried herself into the scope of her little revolver. The two with the big guns were plated out in metal armor. They must have been on their way back to camp, because those fuckers were heading for something.

The woman with the flamer was igniting anything she could find, shriveled trees lighting up the night like mangled candlesticks, wildlife fleeing and fighting as the Lone Wanderer lined up another shot.

Butch crawled up behind her, pistol in his hand as the crack of Charon's rifle finished off one of the shrieking girls. The patter of bullets tunneling into the ground grew closer, the whirring of the minigun's barrel like a screeching battle cry. Pepper was sure they would die that night at the hands of the raiders, in fact there was no doubt. The motherfucker had a fucking minigun and all of their ammo was back in their shelter. If the raiders cornered them in a little shit shack then that was the end.

She looked over at Butch and shook her head sadly, reloading her revolver with shaky hands. He was swearing under his breath, scrambling in the dirt to pull himself into a crouch behind a stack of crumbly besser blocks. Edging over to him, she pulled up a spot under his bent knees and attempted to punch through the shiny armor of the minigun'd asshole. Raiders were above mutants on her list of things she hated - much above the Enclave and maybe _just_ below her father.

"I forgot what killing felt like…" Charon's murky words felt sick through the thickening smoke.

Startled by the sound of his voice, they both looked over. A deep yellow lit up their faces as a sudden burst of flames coated their blockade. "Fuck!" cursed Pepper, reaching up to tug Butch sprawling on his ass. Any closer and he would have lost his eyebrows.

"Thanks," he muttered again, cringing at the sudden sound of spraying bullets. Pepper was on her way back to the shelter, crawling on her stomach and elbows to tug herself over to the tiny doorway. Springing up inside, she dug through her bag, heart racing as the thunder of bullets shook the outside walls. There was a small groan from what she assumed was a gurgling raider, the whirring of the minigun slowing to a quiet death just outside the door.

Two boxes of 10mm for Butch, check, .32s and a box of shells for Charon, check, and .44s for her. Check. Okay, okay, back outside. She slung her shotgun over her shoulder, peering out the hole to find the apocalypse standing on her doorstep.

The woman with the flamer was being devoured by yao guais, but that didn't stop the already raging fire from burning whatever was in its path. The trees were so bright it was almost like daytime, sending eerie shadows over the dead bodies that littered her view.

Walking out, she found no one but an abandoned minigun and a lump of was she assumed was a toasted raider. Butch and Charon were nowhere to be found, her eyes struggling to find two figures in the half distance... one in a vault suit and one with shaved hair.

Butch put down the bastard with a clean-cut precision, both armed with knives but only one prevailing. The clang of the metal armor hitting the ground startled more wildlife, scuttling radscorpians drawing from the distance to feast on the chemically pumped flesh of raiders.

His hands fell on his knees, half-bent trying to find his breath. That situation had taken a turn for the worst more quickly than he had expected. One minute he was visited by heaven, and the next minute hell had turned up on his doorstep totally uninvited. He itched the blood from his face, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Butch found Pepper standing at the shelter, gob-smacked and slack-jawed, shaking in awe of their current situation. As the fires burnt around them he could see the fear in her eyes - a fear more real than he had ever seen from her in their entire lives together. Limping over, his shoulder smarting like a real bitch, he found her waiting with open arms.

"Come on, let's get you inside quickly. Grab all your stuff. We're getting out of this place before those fucking ghoul bears realize we're still here." She had her arm around his waist, egging him into the hut. "Where's Charon?"

He was quiet, clearing his throat as he rolled his shoulder. The pain was unbearable, but he would get over it, brown eyes sliding to find the deep red hole seeping through his vault suit.

"Butch, _where's_ Charon?" The girl asked again, voice raised a pitch.

"Near the door." He answered quietly, unzipping his suit to get a better look. The girl's eyes widened and she croaked, springing lightly on her feet to the doorway once again. The lump at the door wasn't toasted raider; it was the thick black armor of Charon.

"He's dead?" She asked, whipping around. "He's fucking **_dead_**?" There was no mistaking the face of the ghoul, still looking unimpressed even in the afterlife. The man had survived hundreds of years and he died on the first day of Pepper's contract.

The fires were dimming and the animals had started to fight, the roars of the yao guais rumbling in the distance. She turned to face Butch, eyes falling on the bullet hole that was pissing blood all over his nice clean suit.

"What happened?" She asked quietly, taking one last glance at Charon before heading back inside to find her bag. Pepper's lips were pulled tight as she tugged out her medkit, gesturing him over with the palm of her hand.

"That asshole with the big gun got him. Reloaded and emptied all on the old guy." Butch looked just as shaken as she was, his pale face bringing out his wide eyes. "Didn't even phase the fucker either, just went for it."

"Welcome to the wasteland." Pepper said uncomfortably, tweezing the bullet from his arm. His hand gripped her knee as the pain peaked, letting them catch each others gaze quickly. "I'm sorry you had to see that. It sucks the first time it happens but you get used to it."

"It feels pretty shit because he didn't exactly deserve it." Butch muttered. "The guy was built like a brick house and he was dead like that." He felt the prick of a stimpack forced into his arm, clearing his throat in pain.

"You see what I mean when I say that you need to get your ass into gear?" She questioned, wetting an old rag to wipe the blood from his arm. "Fucking around will get you killed. If Charon can die, you can die. You need to be more careful."

Wrapping the bandage carefully over and around his wound, Pepper watched her companion quietly as he thought things over; probably a little more serious than he was an hour ago.

She left him there to unzip her suit, slipping on her singlet that lay abandoned in the dust. She turned to him, kicking her pack through the dust, towards the door. They stood in silence as Butch pulled his shirt back on, zipping his suit and tugging on his jacket. He even made an effort to fix his absolutely destroyed hair.

"We should bury him." He mumbled. "Give him a good send off at least."

People didn't get buried in the wasteland. Not people like Charon. Pepper's lips thinned.

"It'll take a while to dig a hole. I don't want to stay around here too long."

"The guy saved my fucking life, Pepper." Butch snapped. "If he wasn't there that fucking psycho would have gotten me instead." His eyes were fiery with benevolence; something the girl had assumed had long since died in Butch's being. The girl chewed the insides of her cheeks, eyes flitting to the doorway.

"If we drag him in, we can bury him here. That way the animals won't get him."

With Butch's shoulder out-of-order, it was left to Pepper to drag the massive ghoul inside. The man must have been handsome before he was a zombie; skin faded just enough to show a strong facial structure under the worn muscles. The lone wanderer sighed. She was burying a fucking ghoul.

Using the shovel that was strapped to Charon's backpack, she started heaving the dirt out-of-the-way. Butch sat on a nearby bit of debris, smoking his last cigarette that was in his jacket pocket the entire time.

"Should I say a few words?"

"I don't know, I've never fucking buried anyone before." Pepper growled, body aching and in shock from the past couple of minutes. She kept digging with a huff.

"Charon..." Butch started morbidly. "We hardly knew ya."

Pepper snorted, looking down at the mottled face of the ghoul she had only bought that morning. She felt a twinge of guilt through her, knowing full well that if she hadn't stepped into the Underworld that morning that he would still be standing in the corner of the Ninth Circle, glaring at everyone and everything... Instead of leaking out his life source all over her feet.

"At least he got to see your rack before he died." Butch shrugged, offering her a drag of his smoke. She took it, shooting him a silent look before grinning softly. The poor old man...

"I suppose he did."

* * *

**Edit - 22/02/13**

**I was so tired when I posted this, I forgot to add the authors note at the end! I didn't want to say anything at the start because it would have spoiled it, but here we go.**

**I bought Charon and literally got maybe two towns over and he was destroyed by fucking _robots. _I was devastated, considering I have a 'no going back' policy. Butch is the only companion of mine in F3 that I've actually taken care of.**

**RIP Charon, Jericho and Clover :'( **


End file.
